


30 Years and Now He's Back

by Punkheart11



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Post Episode: s02e12 A Tale of Two Stans, Spoilers - A Tale of Two Stans, rated t just to be safe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-21 12:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4828433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punkheart11/pseuds/Punkheart11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A punch in the face is certainly not what one expects after saving a life, but unfortunately for Stanley it's the best he's gonna get.  But with the hopes of reconciliation with his long lost brother crushed, Grunkle Stan decides that the best way to get closure is not with a hug session (sorry Mabel) but with a good long talk. Whether Ford is willing to comply is another story.</p><p>Post ATOTS</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Out of the Frying Pan

“Well, what are you waiting for, a kiss on the cheek? Get out of here before I have your butts court marshaled!” Ford screamed as he pointed at the two agents. He wasn’t actually sure that his charade would work, but luckily the agents scrambled into their limo and drove off. As soon as they were out of eyesight he gave the “flash drive” to the goat next to him, reminding himself to ask Stanley why they had a goat.

“Great Uncle Ford that was amazing!” As he turned around he saw the bobbing brown head of his new grandniece heading toward him. His mouth formed a small smile, it had been a long time since anyone had given him praise.

“Let’s not go crazy; it was serviceable at best.” _Everyone’s a critic_ , Ford thought, pretending not to hear his brother’s snide remarks. His eyes returned to his new family, their faces filled with a mix of awe and astonishment.

“Thank you kids, but please, call me Ford.” He was never much one for formalities, and in any case having only met these kids a few hours ago, he didn’t deserve to be called their great uncle.

“Sure! Thanks Great Uncle Ford! So, uh…” the boy grabbed a pen and paper that he was hiding in his vest, his eyes filling with excitement, “would you mind if I asked you a couple billion questions about Gravity Falls?” Ford was afraid of this.

“Um…well I-uh.” His smile faded. He didn’t blame the boy for wanting to know more, if the situation was reversed he would already be asking any question that popped into his mind. Unfortunately he was tired… _very tired_ , and talking about the oddities of a dimension that you had just escaped from was not first on the list of things he wanted to do when he got back. However, before either of them could get another word out, his brother (surprisingly) stepped in.

“All right kids, it’s been a long day and me and my brother have a lot to talk about. Why don’t you hit the hay, huh?” Ford and Stan made eye contact, and as much as he hated him, Ford was grateful for his brother’s interruption.

“But, it’s the author! I’ve been waiting so long to ask questions about-“

“I said. Hit. The. Hay!” After his brother escorted the children back into the shack, and the strange gopher man awkwardly let himself out, it was just him and Stan. It was at this point that Stanford was finally able to get a nice long look at his brother. He was certainly older, much older, and the glasses were a surprise, but beneath the grey hair and the wrinkles, he still had the face of the cocky bastard he was in high school. Ford was surprised to see their dad’s old fez on Stan’s head, more so because he didn’t think that his brother would have kept (much less wear) something that belonged to him. However, he assumed it was for the identity of this “Mr. Mystery” that he had acquired over the years.

For the past few minutes (though it felt like hours) the two Stans just stared at each other, neither one daring to be the first to talk. The two just looked at each other for a long time, drinking in the 30 years that they missed together. The tension between them was so thick, you would need an axe just to dent it. After a few more minutes, Ford couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to talk to and hear the sound of another human being, even if it turned into a bunch of shouting and cursing. Carefully rehearsing exactly what he was going to say in his mind, he opened his mouth.

“Stan, listen I-“ But he was cut off, as one index finger raised from Stanley’s hand.

“No, uh-uh. We are not going to talk out here, and not with you in that ridiculous getup. I’ve had enough craziness for one day. You are going to clean up, put some real clothes on, and we are going to sit down and have a nice long talk about what you’ve been doing for the last 30 years.” And before Ford could say anything to object, Stanly began to walk back into the shack. “And if you don’t want to talk then you can just stand out here in the cold and get eaten by wolves. But don’t worry, I’m sure your stink will send them running for the hills.” Stan then disappeared behind the unhinged door of what use to be the shack. And unfortunately for Ford, although he would have much preferred getting torn apart by viscous wolves than sit and talk with his brother, he hadn’t had a change of clothes in a couple of years. Thus, with frown on his face and a slight limp in his step, he proceeded to enter the “Mystery Shack”.


	2. There's No Place Like Home...Right?

_It was a bright and sunny afternoon in New Jersey as a young Stanley Pines walked along the shore of Glass Shard Beach. As his bare feet sunk into the wet sand Stanley readjusted the bucket that he was balancing on his head, careful not to drop the precious contents within. While his brother was at some nerd club, Stanley had spent the evening looking for shells to decorate the Stan O’ War, once it was completed of course. He didn’t do half bad either as he had filled the bucket to the brim with different, brightly colored shells, making sure as he was gathering them that they were in the best condition possible. A beauty like the Stan O’ War could not be adorned with anything but the shiniest and smoothest shells in all of Jersey. However, as the sky turned from a dark orange to a navy blue, Stan picked up the pace to head back home. Their mother was never very strict on curfew, but their father always demanded them to be home and at the table by supper. Not wanting to risk another lecture, Stan began to sprint, holding his bucket close to his chest, and made a beeline for home._

-

Stanford let out a deep sigh as the hot water rained down his head. It was amazing what a nice hot shower could do for the body, especially a body that’s been fighting inter-dimensional demons for the past thirty years. He tried to stay under the stream for as long as possible, not just because it felt good, but because the longer he stayed in here the less time he would spend with Stan. Unfortunately his body began adjusting to the temperature, and realizing that he was probably wasting all of the hot water in the house, Ford turned the water off and began to dry off. He didn’t bother brushing his hair, and reached instead for his cracked glasses by the sink. It was then that he noticed the shaving cream and razor that Stan had laid out for him. Running his hand through the stubble on his chin, he remembered that normal people didn’t have to shave with a rusted machete or a sharpened monster tooth in the reflection of an enchanted stream. But then again he wasn’t really a normal person. He wet the blade and began running it down his face. It seemed that every hair the razor sliced away he came closer and closer to looking like a civilized human being. In fact, with this and the shower he felt like he could step outside right now and no one would be able to guess that he hadn’t been in contact with humans for the last three decades. Except, perhaps for the burns, scars, bites, and other marks that many dangerous creatures had left on him from the neck down. Perhaps the worst looking one was a gash that traveled in a diagonal line from his stomach to his shoulder. It was that day that he learned you should never pet a griffin without showing it the proper respect.

However the past was in the past, and after Ford wiped his face with a towel he looked into the eyes of a face he hadn’t seen for decades. No longer was he the alien adventurer, traveling dimensions and picking fights with space demons with no goal for the future besides survive. He was once again a nerdy scientist with six fingers, surrounded by mortals who lived their lives never knowing or caring about what lay beyond. Of course it was nice to be back somewhere where something wasn’t trying to kill you every second, but adjusting back to a world where having antenna or horns or…six fingers wasn’t accepted was going to be difficult. Nevertheless, he was here now and he was going to have to get used to it.

He opened the door to the bathroom and entered (what used to be his but was currently Stanley’s) room. It certainly was different since he last slept in here, his findings and notebooks now replaced with cheap knickknacks and regular house furnishings. Picture frames littered the walls of his brother and his family. It was a little hard to see these and not think of the adventures he used to have with Stan and their father, especially first time he took them fishing. Various other frames included pictures of the Mystery Shack and newspaper clippings. If he ever got the chance he would have to ask Stan who this “Gideon” child was and why his brother was responsible for sending a child to jail. Before he could notice anything else he was distracted by the clothes that were laid out on the bed. He black trench coat and torn up shirt were gone. Instead there was his old beige one, surprisingly still intact after all these years, and a red turtleneck he vaguely remembered wearing one winter. Besides that were some black pants and his old boots which still fit him well. These new clothes were definitely a lot lighter than his old ones, but then again he didn’t necessarily have to carry an arsenal of gun and knives in these. As he finished getting dressed his mind raced as he tried to think of what to say to his brother. Was he grateful for being saved from the portal, was he impressed and slightly proud of his brother (who’s only experience with a math book was doodling animations in the pages), and did he not wish every day for thirty years that he had stood up to his father and prevented Stan from getting kicked out? Of course, but he was never going to admit it. Stubbornness ran in the Pine’s family like twins, and the fact that his brother almost caused the end of the universe itself did not help much.

After clasping in the last buckle on his boot, Stanford finally decided that he couldn’t waste any more time. He stood up straight, took a deep breath, wondered for a second if using the infinity sided die to get out of the conversation was worth risking turning the universe into an egg, he walked downstairs.


	3. From the Top

_“I’M HOME!!!” Stanley shouted as he burst open the door to his house. His mother, who was preparing dinner, almost dropped the pot she was carrying as the little boy’s voice filled the room. After carefully laying down his bucket of shells and giving his father (who was watching football in the other room) a quick ‘hello’, he ran to his mother and gave her a hug._

_“Oh! Stanley, there you are, I was startin’ to worry. Did you have fun today?” She asked, giving her son a quick peck on his forehead before continuing to cook._

_“Yeah! I went down to the beach and found a bunch of cool shells for the Stan O’ War! And look, I even got some for you!” He exclaimed, running to the bucket and picking out a couple of small, smooth shells. “They’re really pretty and I thought you could use it for your jewelry or somethin’!”_

_“Aw, sweetie, thank you.” She picked up the shell and examined it in the light. “It’s beautiful. You’re so thoughtful. I’ll turn them into earrings and wear them at fancy dinners.” Stanley’s face beamed at his mother’s words._

_“Speakin’ of dinner, do you think that these shell’s will get me outta havin’ to eat those brussle sprouts?” The boy asked, noticing the cutting board and vegetables on the table._

_“Nice try. Now run along, go tell your brother that dinner’s almost ready.”_

_“Okay Ma. Hey, can we have ice cream for dessert?”_

_“Only if you finish your brussle sprouts.” Stanley made a disgusted face, but he agreed to her ultimatum. After another quick hug, he picked up his bucket of spoils and made his way upstairs to his and Ford’s bedroom. “What in the world am I going to do with that boy.”_

\- - -

Stanford took a deep breath as he began to walk downstairs. Memories flooded back of him running up and down these exact same stairs. Sometimes it was to give Fiddleford his new blueprints, sometimes it was to get a midnight snack after a long night of tinkering in his study, sometimes it was to rush to his meditations sessions with Bill…but never in a million years did he think it would be to see his brother. His hands trembled slightly as his foot left the last step, and with his head held high he rounded the corner to the kitchen. His brother was leaning against the counter with his head in a newspaper. Despite the damages done to the house, nothing looked too bad. A couple of cupboards were open, shattered glass littered the floor, and a small leak was coming out of the sink, but all in all it was still surprisingly livable. The table was set with a cup of tea and a plate of cookies, similar how their mom used to do after they came home from school. It was at that point that Stanley noticed his brother in the room, and proceeded to put away his paper. After a few moments of awkward silence, he finally spoke.

“I know that you’ve been away for a long time but I’m assuming you still know how to sit down at a table.” He remarked, catching Stanford off guard. He really didn’t expect his brother to be so…pleasant. He sat at the table and looked down at the snack that was prepared for him. “Earl Grey tea with a hint of honey right? I know it’s your favorite because that’s all you drank in high school. By the way, I tried the stuff and my God, you either have no taste buds or you burned them off by drinking so much tea.” Stanley then sat himself down across from his brother and began to drink the coffee he poured himself. Ford continued to stare at the tea, his reflection staring back at him through the ever moving liquid.

“By the way, thanks for nearly wasting all of the hot water Ford. I mean seriously I thought you had turn into a damn mermaid or something. I mean seriously I know you’ve been away for a while but-“

“Why did you open the portal?” Ford’s voice was barely above a whisper as he continued to look down at his tea. He hands were now visibly shaking and his fingernails threatened to dig into the wood.

“What was that Sixer?”

“Why in the hell did you open the damn portal Stanley?!?!” Ford was now on his feet and his palms were flat on the table. “You wanted to talk, now talk! I mean, God Stan…how much more clear could I have made it for you, I literally drew you a picture! ‘Don’t open the portal because if you do you could unleash a demonic nightmare world that could potentially destroy the universe!’ But no! All you could read was ‘Open the portal if I ever get trapped in it even if it means killing all of us, love Stanford’. I mean can you not get it in your thick, square head that maybe, just maybe, I might just know what I’m talking about? I mean the last time you didn’t listen to me I ended up beING TRAPPED IN A PORTAL FOR THIRTY YEARS!!!!” Stanford then grabbed the table and proceeded to knock both it and its contents to the ground.

“You think this whole thing is my fault?” It was obvious that the pleasantries were over, and all of Stanley’s attempts to make this conversation civil had vanished. “You’re the one who built the stupid thing in the first place!”

“Well maybe I wouldn’t have built it if you hadn’t destroyed my dreams for your own selfish reasons?”

“My selfish reasons!?” Stanley asked, his knuckles going white as his hands curled into fists. “You were the one who was going to leave me! Did you ever think about what was going to happen to me if you went to that fancy-shmancy school? Did you ever wonder what I was doing all those years after I was kicked out? When you were trapped in the portal and I spend countless nights wondering whether or not you were even alive, or if I would ever see you again, did I cross your mind ever once?”

“What the-of COURSE I thought about you!!” Tears were now flowing freely from Stanford’s eyes, something Stanley was not at all expecting. “Do you think I’m some kind of heartless monster? For God’s sake Stanley you’re my brother! From the minute you were kicked out to the minute before the portal reopened, not a day went by where I didn’t think about you! I mean how could you have not known that no amount of money and no fancy scholarship could have ever compared to having you come back into my world?”

“Well…I never knew because you never told me.” Stanley stood awkwardly across from his brother, not really sure where the conversation was going to go. He expected things to go rough but most of his predictions of how this night was going to end involved one of them with a bloody nose or a black eye. Ever since he was little Stanley dealt with his problems with his fists but when tears or emotions got involved he usually stepped out. And now he was standing in the middle of a broken kitchen while his long lost brother stood crying after while they both confronted feelings that should have been dealt with a long time ago. It certainly was a strange day. But it got even stranger when Stan noticed his brother’s sobs turn ever so slightly into chuckles and then to full on laughter.

“Why are you laughing…did-did I miss something here?”

It took a bit for Stanford to calm down after his spontaneous laugh attack, but as soon as he regained his composure. “You’re right…I never told anything did I?” Stanley wasn’t sure if he was supposed to respond or not, but before he could say anything his brother began to set the table and chairs back up.

“Ford…what are you doing?” Ford sat back down on his chair and folded his hands in his lap.

“Stanley, when I came out of the portal I was mad. I was mad that you didn’t follow my instructions and that you opened it after I told you not to. But I never told you why you shouldn’t have opened the damn thing in the first place. But that stops now.” He gestured to the seat in front of his brother. “You wanted to talk, well let’s talk. Once again, from the beginning, we both talk about what we’ve been up to for the past thirty years and we leave nothing out.”

For a few seconds Stanley just stood there, not quite sure if what he saw was really happening. But as it became clear that he was serious about this, Stanley pulled up his chair and sat down. “So who wants to go first?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an fyi this fanfiction is far from over, as I plan to write about Ford's perspective from other episodes, but the next chapter might take a while as I plan it all out. But thank you to everyone who has lefts Kudos so far! Your encouragement keeps me going =)

**Author's Note:**

> I know this first chapter is pretty short but I promise they will get longer.


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